


49. Meeting Marcus

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [49]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	49. Meeting Marcus

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

It figures Stephen would show when Antony's in the mens room. Fuck. Watching the other man - Antony's _lover_ \- make his way into the restaurant, Marcus downs his drink and waves him over, rising to his feet to greet him.

Stephen's looking for Antony when he walks in, waving off a member of staff with a quiet, "I'm meeting a friend." He doesn't spot his partner on his first sweep, however his eye is caught when a tall blond guy stands and raises his hand in acknowledgement. _Huh_. Marcus is exactly how Antony described him, very tall, very blond and very ripped - it's not often Stephen meets a man bigger than himself - but here it is.

"Marcus," Stephen smiles. "Good to meet you at last." And it's mostly the truth - he's been eager to satisfy his curiosity more than anything.

"You too," Marcus returns, because he's finally accepted that Stephen's in Antony's life to stay. "Antony should be back in a minute. Do you want a drink?" he asks, already gesturing to their waitress.

"What are you two drinking? Beer? Scotch, I'll have whatever you are," Stephen slips into a seat. He's been busy the last couple of days, and he knows Antony's been pretty patient with him. He's been in no mood, or state to be put on his knees and Antony's not once made him feel guilty about that.

"Three more," Marcus tells the waitress when she comes to the table, assuming Antony will want a refill as well. "Doubles, neat." He looks across the table at Stephen. "How was work?" It seems like a safe enough topic. Polite small talk.

"Long day, hopefully the last of a run of long ass days," Stephen smiles. "Pre-dawn start because it's cheaper to run than night shoots," he shrugs. "What about you two? Productive day?"

Marcus nods. "Very. We decided on a new hire. He'll... help me with some of the actual ground work Antony used to do," is how he finally decides to word it.

Stephen's brows go up at that, this is news to him. "Okay, that's good," he nods. "Right?"

"We'll have to see how he works out," Marcus says, a little resentment simmering under the surface. Not that he shows it. "No one's as good as Antony."

"No, I can see that." And Stephen means that sincerely, because he's got an idea just how committed Antony is to his job and his crew when he's working, if the prep work is anything to go by.

"So, how did you two meet?" Marcus asks, changing the subject. Since he hasn't been able to get the story from Antony, maybe he can get it from Stephen.

Stephen grins at that. "In a bar, it's cheesy huh?" He gives nothing more than that, after all if Marcus is asking it's because Antony hasn't told him.

"Very," Marcus agrees with what might be viewed as a hint of a smile. "He's probably told you I didn't approve of you at first."

"No, but I gathered that for myself," Stephen shrugs. "I can understand it," he eyes Marcus. "But I'm here to stay, and so long as you keep having his back while he's away with you, I won't be an interference."

Marcus stares at Stephen for a long moment, taking his measure, the truth and intent behind his words. "Good. It sounds like we both have his back then," he allows, nodding at the waitress as she delivers their drinks.

"Where the fuck is he?" Stephen looks around. If it wasn't for the fact Marcus was right in front of him, Stephen would assume he was lurking somewhere on the phone to him.

"He said he was going to the mens room," Marcus responds, amused, looking around as well. "There he is." He nods towards the back of the restaurant, Antony talking to some guy who, at just a glance, is obviously mafia of some sort.

Stephen looks over, takes in the scene for a moment before glancing at Marcus. "One of yours?" he ask softly.

Marcus shakes his head. "Stay here," he says, rising to his feet and heading for the back.

Whilst he bristles at being told what to do in that tone - only Antony gets to speak to him like that - Stephen does as he's told. He keeps half an eye on where Marcus is heading, but doesn't make his interest obvious.

"Hey," Marcus nods at the stranger as he joins him and Antony. "Our mate's here," he says, deliberately not using Stephen's name.

"Good," Antony says, smiling easily at Marcus and the other man. "Marcus, this is Dhimitër. Dhimitër, Marcus. Dhimitër possesses some skills that might be of use to us," he tells his right hand. "And he's unhappy with his current employer."

"Shqiptare?" Marcus remarks softly, blowing out a breath as Dhimitër nods. Fuck. "There might be a better place and time for this," he says to Antony.

"Which is why I was just giving him my card," Antony responds with a smile, handing it over. "Call me and we'll see what we can do. Maybe call in some favours."

"Të falemnderit," Dhimitër says, tucking the card in his wallet and nodding at them both.

"Nuk ka problem," Antony responds, nodding in return before heading back to their table with Marcus.

Stephen glances up from the menu when he realises that Marcus is back, and Antony's with him. "Hey," he smiles up at his lover. "I was wondering where you'd got to."

"Mens room and then I ran into someone who's looking to work for us," Antony explains, settling in a seat between Stephen and Marcus, the urge to touch Stephen tamped down hard. "Sorry I wasn't here to make introductions."

Shrugging Stephen smiles, "We managed all on our own," he teases, gaze flicking to Marcus. "Didn't we?"

"Well enough," Marcus allows, although he has to admit, Stephen's growing on him.

"Are you hanging around to eat?" Antony asks, picking up a menu, not really sure whether he wants Marcus to stay or not. There's a ton of shit he can't say in front of Stephen and a whole other category of shit he can't say in front of Marcus. Christ.

"Why not?" Marcus answers. "If Stephen doesn't mind?"

"I'm good, though I do need an early night tonight," Stephen nods, giving Antony an out if he needs it for later. He slides his foot up along side Antony's, pressing it close, allowing himself that one touch. He wonders how much Marcus actually knows about them, if he even knows their dynamic.

"How was work today?" Antony asks, deciding on a burger with a few fries and salad on the side.

"Good, busy, loooong," Stephen drawls, after all it had been before dawn when he'd left, urging Antony to stay in bed for once. "Took another fall off of that aerial rig, we're thinking I need a new harness." He scans the menu again and opts for a Caesar Salad. "Got more bruises on my ass."

"Another fall?" Antony looks decidedly unimpressed but holds back since Stephen's said they'll get him a new harness.

Marcus snickers. "I know that look," he says, ordering the steak sandwich with onion rings as their waitress stops by.

"Hmm, What? That the same one I had when Antony came home last," Stephen cocks a brow at Marcus, but it's the smile curving his mouth that softens his words. Referring of course to the bruising that's still colouring the skin of his lover's back.

"That was his fault," Marcus says, giving Antony a look of his own. "He should have let Chang take the fall."

"Hmm, well let's not have it happen again?" Stephen nudges Antony's elbow. "Or anything worse, thank you." He picks up his glass and leans back. "So Marcus, what do you do in your down time? Between jobs I mean?"

"Boxing, MMA, I play the stock market," Marcus responds, deciding those are safe enough. "I have a house but I don't cook or garden."

"Boxing? Antony's going to be teaching me soon," Stephen smiles at his lover, "He promises me it'll give a decent work out, means I can ditch some of the gym time I loathe, and yeah, one of my fight choreographer guys does MMA, uses some moves in the stuff we film." So far Marcus has been easier to talk to than Antony had led him to expect.

Marcus nods. "It's become very popular in the last few years," he says, taking a drink of his scotch.

"You'll love boxing," Antony tells Stephen, smiling back, grateful the two most important people in his life seem to be getting along. He'll have to thank Marcus later for not being an ass.

"I've watched your show," Marcus says, never mind that it was reconnaissance at its most basic. "The fight sequences are very well done."

Stephen's brows rise in surprise. "Thank you, we work really hard to make them look good." It's an unexpected compliment. "It's a great gig, I'm really lucky."

Antony knows _exactly_ why Marcus watched Arrow and they'll talk about that later. "I think it's only gotten better and better," he says. "Which is brilliant. Good planning on everyone's part."

Once the food arrives they all tuck in, and conversation remains light and casual, nothing's said that discomforts Stephen, either because it's too much information, or because it might be construed as a dig in his direction. Stephen finds himself relaxing, that, and his tiredness have him letting his guard down more than he should. He only pulls himself up when he reaches out and puts his hand on Antony's without thought.

Both Antony and Marcus take note of the slip-up but luckily no one else does. Pulling his hand slowly out from under Stephen's, Antony says, "I think we'd better be getting home."

"You want me to take care of this?" Marcus asks, nodding towards their table.

"If you would," Antony says, not having to wait for the bill sounding really fucking appealing about now. "Thanks."

"Thank you." Stephen hides his discomfort at the fuck up, by standing and offering Marcus his hand. "S'been good to meet you at last." And it has, but Stephen's more than ready to go home. He's clearly more tired than he thought.

"You too," Marcus says, shaking Stephen's hand. Genuinely surprised by how much he doesn't mind the man. But then again, if he's the one person Antony's fallen for after all these years... "Maybe we can do this again," he adds, shrugging at the look Antony gives him. Like he's just grown horns. "What?"

"Never mind," Antony says, shaking his head with amused disbelief. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," he throws over his shoulder, leading Stephen from the restaurant.

"That went well," Stephen steps out onto the side walk with Antony. "Was he on his best behaviour or was I not what he expected do you think?" He's trying not to think about his faux pas, but it's bugging him.

"C, all of the above," Antony responds, smiling over at Stephen. "But yes, I think he likes you, or as much as Marcus likes anyone, apart from me," he adds with a grin.

"Well, I'm glad, I didn't want you stuck in the middle if we didn't at least have some understanding." He tucks his hands in his pockets and follows Antony - presumably in the direction of the car. "I'm sorry about that, in there," he says, unable to let it lie without saying something.

"What? The hand thing? Don't be," Antony says, leading the way through to the parking lot he's in. "It's your career we're protecting and I don't think anyone noticed."

"I know...but, it was a stupid mistake," Stephen huffs out a frustrated breath. "And if I'm doing that, what the fuck is my body language giving away huh? You and Marcus might not have been the only observant people in there tonight."

"No, but gossip is gossip, isn't it?" Antony says, turning to lean against the car as they reach it. "It's not proof of anything. I'm your security guy, your mate, and you'd be surprised at how much straight guys touch each other without a fucking second thought."

"I'm over thinking it then?" His forehead creased in a frown. "Or tired and sore, or in need of being on my knees, or something," Stephen grates out, clearly distressed.

"Hey." Fuck. This is the part Antony hates. When he can't fucking hold his boy in public, can't give him the comfort he needs. "Yeah, you're overthinking it, and you need to get in the car and let me take you home and then we can figure out what you need."

"Okay," Stephen steps up to the car and opens the passenger door to climb in, stuffing his bag over his shoulder onto the back seat. He pulls on his seat belt and waits until Antony is settled before letting his fingers stroke along side the outside of Antony's thigh before folding both his hands in his lap.

Antony smiles at the touch. "What time do you need to be in tomorrow?" he asks, pulling out of the space.

"10, practically a lie in," Stephen replies. "I might get a call first thing to put me back later, but that's the earliest I'll need to be there." He's hoping for that call, but he's not pinning his hopes on it.

"Do you want to be put on your knees?" Antony asks, rolling down his window and tapping his credit card on the pay machine. "Or do you want a nice long bath?" He's been patient all week. It won't kill him to wait another day or two and besides, his boy's well-being will always trump his own wants.

Stephen's lips purse in thought. "I don't know," he admits. "I don't know if I'm on my knees whether I'll fuck up or push back, or just... not get it, or whether it'll give my brain a break from lines and cues and fight moves..." Since he was sick with the flu filming has been pretty intense and they're coming up to a break so all the stops are being pulled to get shit done on time and in budget - every one's feeling the pressure.

"What about a bath?" Antony asks. "Will it give your brain a break?"

"I don't want a bath." Then he takes a breath. "I'd like to go on my knees, on the understanding I might struggle? So...something easy if, it's okay with you?" He gives Antony a side ways glance. "Please?" It's been too long, days since they had dedicated time in role, and the longer they go the more unsettled Stephen's starting to feel.

"Yeah, of course," Antony agrees, nodding, thankful that the lights seem to be on their side for once. "Like I'm going to say no to that."

"Even if I fuck it up?" Stephen's hand sneaks out of his lap again, now they're in moving traffic it feels a little safer to rest his hand on Antony's denim clad thigh.

"Even if you fuck it up," Antony confirms, glancing over at Stephen. "Especially since I know how you're feeling going in."

"Thank you," Stephen exhales hard. "I can't wait for our break, I need it," he adds after a moments pause, his tone wistful. "Some down time with you, being able to eat and drink what the hell I want, when I want, being able to sleep or fuck, or just...chill."

"That reminds me," Antony says, turning onto their block, "and don't give me grief about asking questions - I was going to give you blanket permission when we're in Italy, but then I thought you might not want that?"

"Can I think about it?" Stephen asks, surprised at the offer, and not a little ambiguous, not when this was such a sensitive subject the last time it reared its ugly head.

"Of course," Antony says, pulling into their building's garage. "It also doesn't have to be the whole time. It could be just one of the weeks. But you think about it, let me know."

Stephen nods, and murmurs a soft. "Okay," He knows he needs to talk to Antony about this, about how he now feels conflicted over this issue since he was punished for cumming - it'd never been a huge issue before then, but he still feels like they didn't reach a satisfactory conclusion - at least not for himself. He understands what Antony wants, what he has laid out as his expectations, and as Stephen's Sir he has every right to do so...but Stephen had still not felt fully 'heard'.

Antony pulls into his parking spot and cuts the engine. "Don't forget your bag," he says, getting out and meeting Stephen around the front of the car, the button for their private elevator pushed. "I'm glad you don't have to go in so early tomorrow."

"Yeah?" Stephen hikes his bag up on his shoulder, and leans against the wall as they wait. "That eager to cook me breakfast?"

"That, and getting to stay curled up with you for a while," Antony says, not giving a shit how sappy he sounds. "Although speaking of breakfast, you want anything special?"

"Scrambled egg, pancakes," Stephen smiles, he loves how Antony likes to cook for him, likes to send him out each morning with a proper breakfast and not a power bar and a banana which he's been guilty of in the past. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Antony says with a smile, stepping in and pushing the button for the penthouse. "I've got blueberries for the pancakes if you want them," he mentions, pulling Stephen in close the moment the elevator doors close.

Stephen almost slumps into Antony's arms, he presses his face in against his lover's neck and inhales before nuzzling a kiss against the stubble there. "You take such good care of me," he mumbles.

"I love taking care of you," Antony says, simply savouring this moment, having Stephen in his arms. "And it works both ways."

"I sometimes feel I'm getting the better deal here. You're so good to me, _for_ me, and now I live in this beautiful home, am utterly spoiled and the sex..oh fuck the sex is just..perfect," Stephen raises his head, searching Antony's face. "My life really couldn't get much better."

Antony grins and kisses him as the doors open and they move into the foyer. "I'm so glad to hear that."

"The _only_ way to make it more perfect is if you could shift reality so that being with you wasn't an issue to my career," Stephen smiles, pausing at the ornate table to let Antony swap over his collars. "So you know...blueberry pancakes and a new world order would be awesome."

"Coming right up," Antony grins, fastening the lock into place. "You know I'd make it happen if I could," he adds with another kiss and a soft exhale. There's so much he can control in this world, but that, that's way out of his reach.

"You make me so happy Tony, really," Stephen leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his lover's mouth. "Now please...may I have a gentle Sir to serve tonight?"

Antony nods. He takes Stephen's hand and unlocks the front door, letting them into the penthouse. "Go use the bathroom, whatever you need to do, and then I want my boy naked and on his knees at the end of the bed."

"Okay," Stephen gives Antony's hand a squeeze. "I'm going to take a shower, but I'll be really quick." He tugs his hand free and heads off toward the bathroom.

Antony changes into black low-slung pajama pants and wanders back to the kitchen. He checks his voicemail and texts while putting away the dishes from the drying rack then settles on the couch with a glass of water, looking out on the city while he waits for Stephen.

Stephen is quick, and the shower perks him up a little, but he knows he's on borrowed time before he crashes and will need sleep, he brushes his teeth, hangs up the damp towel and heads toward the bedroom. "Sir? I'm ready," he calls out as he settles down at the end of the bed as directed.

It's amazing how quickly it still steals his breath away, finding Stephen here, on his knees, his collar around his throat. Knowing he's his, that he's here for good. Antony takes a seat on the bench on the end of the bed and reaches out, trailing his fingers over Stephen's chest, playing with his nipples, eyes locked on his face, drinking in every nuance of expression.

The tension eases from Stephen's shoulders, his Sir's fingers, his closeness impart a sense of safety a sense of _rightness_ to Stephen. He holds his Sir's gaze, thankful as ever that Antony is not a dominant who prefers a lowered gaze from their playthings. "This boy loves you Sir," he whispers. "With every thing he is."

Antony smiles. "And his sir loves him back. So much," he affirms, pinching Stephen's nipples, working them into tight rigid peaks.

Licking over his lower lip Stephen pushes into that pain, he moans softly as his cocks starts to thicken between his thighs. He has to fight the urge to reach up and place his own hands on his Sir's thighs, instead he leaves them at his sides, his fingers curling up into fists.

"You like that, don't you?" Antony murmurs, dragging his nails down Stephen's chest and stomach.

"Your hands on me, that's what I like," Stephen nods, his voice lower now, rougher.

"Is that so?" Antony says, wrapping his fingers around Stephen's cock.

"Yes Sir, your hands, they pleasure me, they hurt me, they love me..." His voice hitches as those wicked fingers curl around his dick as it continues to thicken.

"When they pleasure you like this," Antony repeats, stroking slowly, fully, loving the feel of his boy's cock in his hand. "And when they hurt you like this," that cock released and slapped with the flat of his hand before he quickly returns to stroking it.

The sound he makes is shock and pain, Stephen jerks his hips away in reflex before resuming his position, when he replies his words are a little strained. "When they love me like that," he affirms.

Antony nods. His hand on Stephen's cock, never faltering in its touch, Antony grabs the lube from where they keep it stashed under the bench cushion and slicks the fingers of his other hand.

His breathing is getting deeper now, his body trembling as his arousal mounts, skin flushing up over his chest and throat. And Stephen's gaze never leaves his Sir's face.

"Whose cock is this?" Antony prompts, his grip tightening a little.

"Yours Sir," Stephen grunts out, precum spewing from the tip over his Sir's fingers.

"And this hole?" Antony says, shifting forward, his other hand reaching between Stephen's thighs, under his cock and balls, to finger that unslicked pucker. "Who _owns_ this?"

"Is yours Sir. Sir owns all I am," Stephen leans in a little, simply to take the opportunity to inhale the scent of his Sir and lover, the temptation to brush his mouth over his Sir's skin is almost too much, especially when his body is being tormented in such a fashion.

Antony pushes two fingers into Stephen, angling his hand to get them as deep as he can, his strokes roughening as he leans in, brushing their lips together in a tease of a kiss.

Stephen's entire body shudders, and it's not the hand on his cock, or the fingers in his ass, but the barely there kiss that elicits that reaction. He makes a soft noise of want, of aching need...and then his cock spurts a second warning - and Stephen realises he has to start begging. "Please, please Sir...may boy cum?"

"Yes," Antony nods, biting softly at Stephen's lower lip, "but I'm still going to fuck him."

Stephen had not expected to be granted permission so quickly, a soft whine and he leans closer, chancing his luck in seeking more kisses, more of those teeth on his lips, more of his Sir...his hips thrust into Sir's hand as he chases that final stimulation that will tip him over the edge.

Antony kisses Stephen roughly, tongue plundering his mouth, working his cock, fingers crooked to press there, right fucking there.

It's everything Stephen needed, all his buttons pushed at once...and when he orgasms it's blindingly intense, he keens into his Sir's mouth, his hands come up to hold on, because he feels like he is flying apart.

"Good boy," Antony murmurs between kisses, gentling both his touches until he stills with the last of the aftershocks.

"I love you, boy loves you," Stephen rambles, his own kisses are messy and imprecise he slumps more against the solid strength of his Sir. "Never let boy go...please."

"Never," Antony promises, easing his fingers from Stephen's body and offering him his come-coated hand. "Not in a million years."

Turning his head, Stephen wraps his fingers around Antony's wrist, he starts to lick away all his semen, eyes closed, he lets the act soothe him, his heart rate slowly returning to normal.

"I want you on the bed, on your back," Antony orders, the front of his pajama pants damp with precome.

"Yes Sir." When he moves, Stephen's a lot less graceful than usual, indeed he almost stumbles the few short steps to the bed, he tugs the covers down and then lays himself on the cool cotton, thighs splayed, arms above his head. Submissive - offering.

Desire washes over Antony as he stands, staring at Stephen, his pants dropped beside the bed. He moves between Stephen's thighs, settling between them, one leg hiked high over his hip as he lines up and pushes in, so slowly, all urgency held at bay as he savours every fraction of an inch.

Stephen's hands are on his Sir before he's even finished climbing between his thighs, he strokes over hair covered pecs, his thumbs rub over both nipples before moving upward. He bears down as his Sir nudges the blunt head of his cock against his body, but he's used to this now, to taking that thick erection and his Sir slides in without too much effort, and by the time he's balls deep Stephen's pupils have dilated and his breath is quickening once more.

Bracing himself on his forearms, Antony stares into Stephen's eyes as he moves into his body with long smooth thrusts. His orgasm slowly building, the pleasure, the connection between them, both physical and emotional, savoured.

One hand plays over Antony's hair, petting and stroking, he lifts his head to press kisses to the corner of his Sir's mouth, and whispers "You are my world..."

"And you mine," Antony murmurs, his chest tightening at the words, at the thought that he might never have found this, found Stephen, if it hadn't been for that night in the bar. God. "So close..." his cock throbbing hard inside his lover.

"Cum Sir, cum inside your boy, your fuck toy...mark him," Stephen utters the words he knows get Antony each time he says them, drinking in the sight of his Sir flushed with pleasure, glassy eyed with arousal. "Cum Sir...please I need it!"

That's all it takes. Antony groans and comes with a shout, pumping his seed into his boy's ass. Fucking breeding him.

Stephen holds Antony tightly as he rides out his orgasm, and when his Sir starts to slump he's petting and soothing, pulling him in to cradle him. "Thank you Sir...thank you for using boy," he whispers, pressing kisses to sweaty skin.

"It was my pleasure," Antony says, eyes crinkling at their corners. "But I think we both needed that." All of it.

"I always need you," Stephen returns with a smile, "Sir and Tony," he strokes the flat of his hand along the line of Antony's back, up and down, one leg hooked around the back of his lover's.

"And was this what you needed tonight?" Antony asks, wanting to make sure.

"I was expecting a little more service and a little less pleasure," Stephen presses a kiss to the corner of Antony's mouth. "But yes, I needed to be your boy, being used...that's a good part of that."

Antony eases out and shifts to the side, pulling Stephen into his arms. "Tell me what service means to you," he says softly.

Stephen drapes himself half over Antony's chest, leg thrown over his lover's thighs, head set on his shoulder. "It means my focus being on you, giving you pleasure, seeing to your comfort, your body." Stephen tilts his head back to nuzzle up into Antony's jaw.

"And does your coming or not coming play into that?" Antony asks, trailing his fingers over Stephen's skin. "I know it's my decision but when you were thinking of serving me tonight, what did you picture?"

He spends a moment in thought before answering. "I thought maybe I'd undress you, serve you a drink, a whiskey, then use my hands, my mouth to bring you off, or prepare myself for you to fuck, it wasn't about you pleasuring me, or allowing me to cum," Stephen lifts his head to search his Sir's expression. "I learned my lesson about the orgasm control," he assures softly.

"That's not what I was thinking about," Antony says, kissing him. "But the rest of it, I'll keep in mind. You have to remember, I used to just pick up boys and girls for the night and when I did have someone for slightly longer, I didn't care what they wanted or what worked for them, beyond their hard limits," he clarifies. "They were simply there for me to use and any service, aside from sexual, it wasn't intimate, it wasn't _for_ me. I could've been anyone, and so could they."

Stephen sets his chin on Antony's chest, rubs his forefinger through the hair covering his lover's pec. "I'm not anyone, and I don't want to be just a sexual service slave for you," he admits quietly. "I want to be of service beyond that, your comfort, your physical and mental comfort should be part of my service too, I want to be mindful of it even when I can't be in role."

Antony nods. "Then I'll try and be more conscious of that," he says just as softly. "Look for ways for you to be of service. I'm so used to being on my own, taking care of myself, but it feels good when you do things for me, when I can sit back and really relax."

"It'll be hard for me, when I'm working, because of the length of time I'm out during a day, and because my mind is usually full of fight moves and scripts, but on my days off, on my breaks, I want more than being a hole to fuck," Stephen closes his eyes and tips his head to press his mouth to Antony's skin, inhaling his Sir's scent as he does.

Antony uses a finger to lift Stephen's chin. "You are _always_ more than just a hole for me to fuck," he says. "Even when that's what we're doing, even when I'm telling you you're my fuck toy, my cunt, you're always more than that. The connection between us... you're everything to me."

"Everything?" Stephen holds his Sir's beautiful blue eyes, his heart hammering hard in is chest. He's still not used to these intense conversations, it's still an emotional landscape he's deeply unfamiliar with.

Antony nods. "Everything," he says softly, even knowing how vulnerable he's making himself, how much he's leaving himself open to being hurt. Giving Stephen that power he's never given anyone else.

Stephen closes his eyes again, turns his head and settles it back on Antony's chest, where he can hear his lover's heartbeat kicking out the same tempo as his own. He knows this is it for him, that Antony is the one man he wants to spend the rest of his life with, he just hopes he can live up to what Antony wants from him.


End file.
